It's a Christmas Thing (The Christmas Tree Ranch #2)(40)
Tracy, who’d never had a cat before, had been surprised to discover how calming they could be. Keeping Rainbow had been a good decision. But no more kittens. She would hold Rush to his promise to spay the mother cat once her babies were weaned.
She was about to untangle herself from the cat and stand up when her cell phone rang. The caller was Maggie.
“Hi, Tracy.” Maggie’s voice was as cheerful as the call of a spring meadowlark. “I’m sorry we missed you at the B and B this morning. Travis and I arrived after you left, but somebody mentioned that you and Rush had been there.”
“I’ll bet they did,” Tracy said. “I had a feeling that if I showed up with Rush and Clara, tongues would wag.”
Maggie chuckled. “Don’t worry. This is a small town. In a day or two you and Rush will be old news. Anyway, that’s not why I’m calling. Tomorrow’s Sunday, and since Christmas Tree Ranch will be closed for business, and the guys have been working so hard, I wanted to bring them some lasagna and garlic bread for a nice sit-down dinner. I’d love to have you come.”
Tracy’s first impulse was to make an excuse. But Maggie was trying to be her friend, and she needed good friends. If she ever wanted to be happy in this close-knit little town, she would have to stop living like a hermit outside of work.
“Thanks, I’d be happy to come,” she said, measuring each word. “But only if I can bring something. How about a salad or dessert—or both?”
“Your choice. Either or both. We’ll be gathering at five o’clock. Does that work for you? I can’t wait to meet Rush’s little girl.”
“You’ll love her. And five o’clock is fine.”
Maggie paused, as if torn between ending the call and asking one more question. Curiosity won. “Tracy, you and Rush—are you, you know, a couple?”
Tracy sighed. She should have expected this. “Heavens no, we’re just friends. If people are saying that we’re together, that’s plain wrong. We’re not even dating.”
“I understand. But what I’m saying is, maybe you should be. Rush is a great guy, and I know he likes you. According to Travis, the divorce really put him through the grinder. I’ve heard how much he loves that little girl. He deserves a second chance at a family, with children of his own. So do you. In fact, I think the two of you would make wonderful parents.”
“Oh, Maggie—” For the space of a heartbeat, Tracy was tempted to share her secret. But she swiftly thought better of it. Nothing stayed secret for long in Branding Iron.
“I’m sorry,” Maggie said. “Did I say too much? I’m known for putting my foot in my big mouth.”
“No—oh, no,” Tracy protested, fighting a flood of emotion. “You caught me off guard, that’s all. But it’s far too soon to be talking about any kind of future with Rush, especially when part of me is still married to Steve.”
“I’m sorry. As usual, I overstepped.”
“No, you meant well, Maggie. But now you know better. I’ll see you tomorrow at five o’clock.”
“Wonderful. See you then.”
Tracy ended the call and pressed her hands to her face. Maggie was a good person, and she’d spoken with the best of intentions. But it had been all Tracy could do to keep herself from cancelling the dinner invitation. What if Maggie had said the same things to Rush? What if Rush was hoping for the loving family Tracy could never give him?
How could she face him and his friends at dinner, knowing what a fraud she was?
Being with Rush made her feel warm and safe. If she allowed her emotions free rein, she could even love him. But it would be a love built on empty promises and doomed expectations—a love that, in the end, would leave them both hurt and bitter.
But tomorrow night was only a dinner with friends. She could handle that.
Tracy forced herself to think about what she could bring. A salad would be easy. And to go with lasagna, maybe a light dessert like a fruit sorbet—but no, she’d be feeding three hungry, hardworking men. Chocolate was the only way to go.
After taking stock of what she had on hand, she made a list of ingredients to buy. By now it was getting dark. With the sun gone, the air had turned frigid. Shop Mart was open on Sundays. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough to pick up what she needed.
That done, she took Murphy out to his favorite tree, gave him his medicine, scooped out Rainbow’s litter box, and checked on the kittens. After that it was time to end the day with popcorn and a good movie.
Living alone had its perks. But as she settled in to watch the newest mail-order DVD, with the bowl of popcorn in her lap and Rainbow purring next to her on the afghan, she found herself missing the warm weight of an arm around her shoulders, the sound of deep-voiced laughter in her ear, and the roughness of a stubbled chin brushing her cheek. But that wasn’t all. The house was too dark and quiet, too much the same as always. She missed the soft glow of lights, the scent of fresh pine, the subtle excitement of seeing wrapped packages, and the sound of a choir singing traditional carols on the radio.
For the first time since Steve’s death she was missing Christmas.
*
The big-box store opened at 10:00 on Sundays. Tracy drove into the lot at 10:15, early enough to get a good parking spot. The sky was cloudy, the morning wind warm enough to usher in a storm. Would it be snow? When it came to Texas weather, there was no telling what the next day would bring.